We arrived at the hospital within fifteen minutes and were taken into the delivery room at once. Soon two doctors joined us and started checking the baby’s vital signs. One of them shook his head then turned to us. “We need to do a C-section. The heart rate and the oxygen level has gone down and your wife isn’t dilated enough.”
“Do what you have to do to guarantee my wife’s and our son’s safety,” I said quietly, giving them a warning look they couldn’t possibly misread. None of them would survive tonight if something happened to my family.
Aria’s eyes were wide as she breathed through another contraction. “I want a natural birth.”
“I know, Love, but this is for the best for you and the baby.”
It didn’t take long until everything was prepared for the operation. One of the doctors turned to me before they began. “Usually we warn the fathers that they shouldn’t look over the barrier unless they can stomach a lot of blood, but I don’t think that’s necessary with you.”
I didn’t like his tone one bit and gave him a cold smile. “I can handle blood, don’t worry.”
After that, I focused all my attention on Aria, cradling her head and whispering words of adoration in her ear. I could see the worry and fear in her eyes, probably not for herself but our unborn child. “Everything will be all right.”
I wasn’t sure how much time passed until the doctor finally lifted our son, all wrinkly and blue. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t breathing but then he let out a loud wail and the doctor turned to do checkups. He was much bigger than Marcella had been, definitely my son.
Aria released a harsh breath and I kissed her forehead, then her ear, whispering, “I love you more than life itself, principessa. You gave me the greatest gift of all, your love and our children.”
Tears filled Aria’s eyes and she put her hand over mine.
The doctor carried our son over to us and put him down on Aria’s chest. She stroked his back then looked up at me in wonder, and everything else seemed to fade to black, becoming irrelevant. “He looks like you.”
He did.
His hair was pitch black and his eyes gray, and he weighed at least nine pounds from the look of it.
I nodded. Like me, but innocent and tiny. I reached out and stroked his cheek. My finger appeared huge against it.
Aria looked exhausted and pale. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Yes,” I murmured, my voice strangely hoarse. I gently picked our baby boy up from Aria’s chest and held him in my arms. I’d forgotten how tiny and vulnerable babies were, how much they depended on our care. I wasn’t sure why I’d thought my feelings for my son would be different than for Marcella. In the few minutes that he was on earth, I already loved him with a fervor I only reserved for Aria and my daughter. He still needed my protection like they did, and I would keep him safe as much as I could.
“Amo,” I murmured as I put my finger into his small palm.
Aria watched us with tears in her eyes while I kept checking the doctors who stitched her up to make sure they were focused on the task at hand. When we were finally admitted to our private room, I bent over Aria and kissed her forehead then her lips. “You are incredible, principessa.”
She gave me a tired smile. “Will you stay the night?”
“Of course. I won’t leave your side.”
Cradling Amo in my arms, I watched over Aria as she fell asleep. I wouldn’t close my eyes until we were back home. They would be safe; nothing else mattered.
Because of the C-section Aria wasn’t allowed to leave the next day, but Gianna and Matteo took care of Marcella, probably stuffing her face with chocolate and letting her watch TV until her little brain was completely frazzled. We decided not to have any visitors to give Aria time to heal and agreed to meet in our penthouse.
I carried Amo on my arm and Aria’s bag in my other hand as we stepped into the elevator.
“I hate that I can’t carry him because of the C-section,” she said, looking longingly at our son.
“It’s only a couple of weeks. Your sisters will be around to help you, and Matteo will take care of business as much as he can so I can stay home.”
Gianna, Liliana, Romero, and Matteo were already in our penthouse when we stepped inside. Someone, I assumed Liliana, had decorated everything with balloons and baked a cake with blue frosting.
Aria’s eyes widened in surprise. She moved carefully into our home, trying to hide that she was still in pain, but I caught the occasional wince.
Gianna and Liliana, who carried Marcella in her arms, hurried over to Aria and hugged her while Matteo and Romero joined me. Romero touched my shoulder, regarding Amo with a smile. “He looks like you.”